


Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself

by GaHoolianGirl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley Pisses Off A Homophobe: The Fic, Crowley is nice, Established Relationship, Funny, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, It's like REALLY vague, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), This is super light hearted sometimes causing mischief in a bigot's life makes you feel better, Unnecessariy Details About How Their Cottage Looks, Well I tried, With each other not the homophobe, i love that that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 20:32:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaHoolianGirl/pseuds/GaHoolianGirl
Summary: “It wasn’t just to have you win, angel, though I’m not in the business of lying to you so I will say that I did consider that.”“What else could...”“Plain and simple, I hate her."Crowley sabotages a competitor in a pie contest Aziraphale entered, and his angel learns exactly why.





	Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to accomplish three things here, 1) a hint at domestic Ineffable Husbands, 2) start to form an idea of what I want their cottage looks like, 3) Crowley doing some well intentioned mischief. Let me know if you enjoyed that attempt!

The shoulder Aziraphale gave Crowley as they walked into their home one lovely fall evening was as frigid as the coldest glaciers God had created, and the look in his eyes matched well.

Crowley bless- damn him, seemed blissfully unaware, or at least unaffected.

“I cannot believe you,” the angel said, voice dripping with venom.

“I thought I was the snake,” Crowley muttered, not quite flinching at, but not quite ignoring, the glare he received for doing so, “Why’s this got your knickers all in a twist? You’ve known me for six thousand years, I’ve done far worse.”

Aziraphale sighed, hanging up his scarf (he knitted it himself, in an attempt to pick up an extra hobby to fill his new found free time. The woolen accessory was his first...and less than stellar attempt) on the antique rack that stood in their foyer, “I know that, but I was...well I was rather excited to participate in this! Honestly. Not that I was lying before, I mean that I wanted to do it like they did. Fairly.”

Clicking his tongue, Crowley removed his sunglasses, which he was in the habit of when they weren’t expecting guests (which was most nights) and tossed them at the direction of the small end table which stood directly next to the coat rack. They were miracled by the angel to somewhere he’d actually remember them before they even made contact, “I can’t for the life of me see _why_ , what good is it to impress a bunch of old bats like that?”

“They are to be our neighbors, Crowley! You remember what Jesus said, poor boy,” he rested a hand on his chest briefly, “' _Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself_ ’ and all that?”

“We’re going to outlive her, angel, we can make friends with the next batch.”

The sharp intake of breath that Aziraphale took informed the demon that this was, in fact, not over, but he was first going to make himself a cup of tea and situate himself in the living room as the entryway was no place to have a fight.

You can’t know each other for six millennia and not be able to interpret little signs like that, after all.

Trailing behind, Crowley took a moment to drag his hand down his face, mortal vessel exhausted from the day they’d had. Inefficient things, humans were, but one had to become tired to enjoy sleep to its fullest. A fact which he would gladly prove after all this was over.

Usually Aziraphale enjoyed the process of brewing himself a kettle of tea in the traditional human way, but this evening he had a warm cup at his lip the moment his rump made contact with the seat of his chair. It was a dark brown French leather Club Chair that had sat in the back of his shop for just shy of a hundred years and the angel had decided would be “his” chair in their new cottage. It’s cushion already had an indent to verify this declaration. This familiar piece of furniture, added together with novelty mug he was drinking from, did little to help his attempt to seem serious and cross.

It actually made him look, in Crowley’s completely and totally unbiased, objective, and correct opinion, very adorable.

Once the other had taken a seat in his own personal spot, Aziraphale put his tea down to speak, clasping his hands in his lap as he was wont to do, “I’m going to ask you quite seriously, Crowley, why you did you do sabotage Mrs. Bardwell’s pie? If you hadn’t done that she would have won,” he held a finger up in warning, “And don’t you dare say you did it simply because you’re a demon, because we both know that’s bollocks, dear, there were any number of other opportunities for mischief throughout the evening.”

He sucked on his bottom lip before replying, looking up to the ceiling, “It wasn’t just to have you win, angel, though I’m not in the business of lying to you so I will say that I did consider that.”

“What else could...”

Crowley sighed, “Plain and simple, I hate her. She had some, ah, choice words upon hearing that we arrived. Not from any personal grudge, nothin’ like that, but she heard two ‘unmarried gentleman’ were moving into the cottage down the road, well, you can guess what she called us,” he smirked an angry, hateful smirk, and the angel could have sworn he almost saw a glimpse of snake like fangs, “If ‘ol Cindy Castleton is to be believed, it’d be easier to guess what she _didn’t_ have to say.”

Ah.

“Ah,” suddenly that venom from earlier came back around to poison his own mouth, and the taste was quite repulsive, “I’m sorry for...jumping to such harsh conclusions. I should know you better by now than to think you’d do something like that just to spite someone. Spite me, at least.”

A moment of forgiving silence hung in the air around them, making the environment too harsh for a grudge to mature. This quiet was broken by a revelation had by Aziraphale that took the form of a loud gasp.

“Wait a tick, you mentioned Mrs.Castleton, when did you speak to her? I believe I would have seen that, her relic of a hat is hard to miss.”

A laugh, “You, of all beings, are in no position to mock someone’s fashion for being outdated, angel. Anyhow, I was doing what you asked. ‘Loving thy neighbor’. Acquainting myself with our neighbor, that is. All that jazz. Turns out that Bardwell’s a well known bigot...one could say that she’s pretty unpopular around these parts for everything but her pies. So I was doing everyone else a favor by having that rat spring out from her blackberry pie, really.”

“I trust that the little fellow made it out of there unharmed?”

“More than, made sure the bloke got cleaned up and handsomely rewarded with a feast of whatever his heart desired. He deserved commendation for his outstanding performance. You saw her face!”

Even though he still did not condone the act of cheating, even if it was to spite a truly unkind person, Aziraphale couldn’t withhold the mirth from his voice, “I did indeed gaze upon her shocked visage. I might never forget it, in fact.”

Neither of them knew if those who hated others simply for existing differently from themselves were one of the Almighty’s indecipherable decisions or a product of the folly of man, but they both silently agreed that, if they saw a way to easily make their lives worse, they couldn’t turn the opportunity down, as they had been doing for hundreds of years.

“Thought you might turn over to my side, if you heard the full story.”

“Next time, darling, tell me before you do something like that.”

“But then you’d ruin my fun-”

“I could have helped!”

The adoration in Crowley’s eyes was impossible to deny as his grin spread from ear to ear, “I told you that you were just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Now, could you come over here and show me just how serious you are about that, angel?”

By his wily demon’s side so quickly it as hard to tell if he had miracled himself over or was just extremely eager, the kiss Aziraphale planted on Crowley’s lips let him know that he did a very, very good job•

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> The image at the bottom is what I had in mind describinb the ciatrack, end table, and chair. I picture their cottage having a strange mix of antique and moern furniture.


End file.
